


I was shaking at the knees

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Kink!verse [15]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Canon Compliant, E-stim, Electricity Play, Electro-stim, Episode: s05e01 The Crowening, Light BDSM, Light Masochism, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Patrick Brewer: Service Top, Patrick's sex spreadsheet, Risk Aware Consensual Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: “Hmm.” Patrick sits back on his heels and David whines, thrusting his hips forward. “So you literally picked a generator, huh?”David’s eyes are hazy and wild, and he blinks a couple of times before his gaze widens. “Oh— honey, that’s not—”Patrick takes pity on him. “David, I’m kidding,” he promises. “Electric play sounds hot. We’ll talk it through after work, okay?”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Kink!verse [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768552
Comments: 40
Kudos: 195





	I was shaking at the knees

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, it's been a while. This one was a constant battle between Patrick's anxiety and my desire for them to just bone already. To be honest I'm still not happy with how much internal stuff wound up in it, but frankly I'm sick of wrestling with it so here we are. 😆 
> 
> Welcome to another kink!verse instalment! Reading the earlier stories is not required (though, as the very biased author I obviously recommend it); they stand alone and are essentially canon-compliant (just with a different first meeting and their relationship being a month longer than canon) so that folks can tap out of any kinks/fetishes/etc that aren't for them as we go.
> 
> Please assume that if you don't see something being negotiated on-screen, they've discussed it off-screen. Also, just a reminder to please not take your kink advice from fanfic. Do your research first, and not from AO3.
> 
> Title is from AC/DC.

Patrick can't sleep.

He should have dropped off quickly, the aches and pains from the tree walk reminding him that he's really been slacking on finding time to hike recently. But instead of submitting to his physical exhaustion, he's staring at the ceiling, mind churning as he thinks about the reason they spent the afternoon thirty feet in the air instead of doing inventory like they planned.

_ In need of a generator. _

It's not that he didn't believe David when he insisted it was just Alexis getting in his head; David's impassioned if terrified speech went a long way towards reassuring him. It’s just that the whole situation dug into the inner voice he usually tries to ignore — the one that wonders what his gorgeous, experienced, gloriously uninhibited boyfriend could really see in a newly gay business major in Levi’s and mountaineering shoes. It’s a long-standing and usually repressed insecurity, and he hates that it’s now keeping him awake. 

They have great sex. Fantastic, earth-shattering sex. And the logical part of his brain knows that David is satisfied; it’s the anxious buzz in the back of his head that worries him, the one that keeps whispering:  _ is he, though? _

It takes him a long time to drift off.

* * *

“David, what are you doing?”

David starts a little before he turns around. Surprisingly, David has hardly complained about having to do inventory today; he arrived early, with a coffee in one hand and Patrick’s favourite tea in the other, and has been so cheerfully counting stock that they’ve finished with twenty minutes to go before they actually open the store. Now he’s pressing his back into the counter, looking as flushed and guilty as if he’d been caught watching porn.

Actually… that’s a thought to tuck away for later.

He assumes David has opened the sex spreadsheet — that’s what David calls it, and at some point along the way, Patrick stopped bothering trying to give it a slightly more delicate name. He doesn't even mind how much David teases him about it, not really, because he knows that David does actually get it. David mood boards, Patrick spreadsheets; that's how they each process information. So yes, David might give him crap about whether he has a formula that decides what they’re going to do in bed on any given night, but Patrick will ask him if there’s a particular colour scheme required for a given kink. That’s just how they are; joke and tease, push and pull. Patrick loves it.

When he nudges David aside to stand in front of the laptop, though, he’s not greeted by a deeply work-inappropriate list of sex acts, but— 

“This is the inventory spreadsheet,” Patrick says, bewildered.

David manoeuvers so he’s standing behind Patrick and then Patrick feels himself wrapped up in a surprisingly tight embrace, one of David’s arms around his stomach and the other hand splayed across his chest. “I figured out how to run the macro thingy,” he murmurs. And Patrick really wants to tell himself that it’s only the hot breath against his ear and the low almost-growl, and nothing to do with David saying the word  _ macro _ (even if it is followed by  _ thingy), _ that makes his cock twitch in his jeans, but… he’s not going to lie to himself about the blatantly obvious.

He stopped doing that when he moved here.

He twists around so that David’s arms are wrapped around his back, and brings his hands to David’s shoulders. “Ooh, say macro again,” he teases and David smirks as he bends down to kiss him, dragging a hum of pleasure out into the word before pressing it into Patrick’s lips. 

“So,” Patrick says when he pulls away. “Should I pull up the sex spreadsheet?”

David looks genuinely confused at the question. “Why?

Patrick forces himself to hold David’s gaze, even though he kind of wants to squirm away. “There’s plenty on there that we haven’t done yet. Let’s find something.”

David looks at him for a long moment, biting his lip.

“I just— hang on, can we—” David spins him around so he’s facing the counter and David is tucked in behind him, Patrick’s back pressed up against his chest and David’s lips near his ear. David needs this, sometimes, the lack of eye contact giving him the courage to say something he finds unbearably heartfelt.

“Remember ‘silent handjobs under the covers’?” David asks quietly, and it takes Patrick a moment to realise David is asking him to remember a conversation and not the act. “That’s true for me, too.”

Of course Patrick remembers. It was the night they tried using the whip and David realised he hated it, and then had nearly torn himself up apologising, and Patrick had said  _ If you told me our sex life was going to consist of nothing but silent handjobs under the covers from now on I’d still— _

He’d almost said the words. For at least the third time since the open mic night it had been on the tip of his tongue but he’d chickened out, finishing the sentence with  _ I’d still want to be with you _ instead and figuring he’d find a way to say them soon. Two days later Rachel had turned up, and that had derailed things for a while.

But that’s all behind them now. He said them eventually, and David — after a brief hour or so of panicking — had said them back. And now he can say them whenever he wants.

“I love you,” he says, because he can and because he likes feeling David’s smile against the side of his head.

“I love you, too,” David says quietly. “And I love our sex life. Well, apart from the lack of privacy, but we make it work.” 

“Yeah, we do.” Patrick thinks, not for the first time, that perhaps a nearly thirty-year-old man should think about getting a place of his own. But he and David haven’t really talked seriously about what the future looks like for them, long term, and he’s a little worried David will run from the conversation if he tries to initiate it. Maybe to Ted’s to eat a dog biscuit, although that worked out okay in the end. “And I know you do.” It’s true — at least in the light of day, with David draped all over his back like he can’t bear to break contact. If when he’s alone in bed at night he struggles to remember it… well, that’s his problem, not David’s.

“Good,” David says, his voice soft in Patrick’s ear.

“But,” Patrick continues, “there’s quite a bit of middle ground between silent handjobs under the covers and hanging off a wire thirty feet in the air.” He feels a puff of air on his neck as David laughs, and he grins to himself as he closes down the inventory spreadsheet and opens up a new one. “So bring the laptop into the back, and pick something.”

“Into the back?” He can’t see David’s face, and yet he can picture his confused expression clearly just from his tone. 

Patrick picks up the laptop before turning, placing it in David’s hands. “We’ve got twelve minutes until we have to open the store,” he says with a smirk. “Think you can pick something by then?”

David raises an eyebrow. “Depends. How distracted am I going to be?” he asks as Patrick places his hands on David’s arms, turning him bodily before pushing him towards the stockroom.

“Very.”

* * *

“Electric play,” David gasps two minutes later. He’s sitting on the couch, pants and underwear shoved haphazardly down to his ankles, and Patrick has been taking his sweet time while David put forth a valiant effort to pay attention to the computer; biting David’s thighs, sucking his balls into his mouth, running his nose along David’s hard length and making David twitch and whimper underneath him. “Patrick, I did it, I picked, please,  _ please _ suck my dick.”

“Hmm.” Patrick sits back on his heels and David whines, thrusting his hips forward. “So you literally picked a generator, huh?”

David’s eyes are hazy and wild, and he blinks a couple of times before his gaze widens. “Oh— honey, that’s not—”

Patrick takes pity on him. “David, I’m kidding,” he promises. “Electric play sounds hot. We’ll talk it through after work, okay?” He waits for David’s frantic nod before leaning forward to wrap his lips around David’s cock and sinking down.

David comes down his throat with six minutes to spare, which as it turns out is just enough time for him to return the favour and for them both to get dressed again before the clock ticks over to 9am.

* * *

It takes six days for the kit Patrick orders to arrive, and then another ten before they have enough guaranteed privacy to use it. But finally Ray is out for the evening and David is spread out on his bed, naked and half-hard and so irresistibly gorgeous Patrick keeps putting down the machine he’s supposed to be setting up to kiss him thoroughly until David is laughing into his mouth and pushing at his shoulders.

“Patrick, come on, I need it,” he pants, and Patrick feels an all-too-familiar warmth hooking in below his stomach; sometimes he thinks David plays it up a little because he knows how much Patrick loves to be needed, but that doesn’t stop him finally breaking away to finish plugging the wires into the small black box. Once everything is set up he picks up the wand and plugs the wires carefully into the base, David watching him hungrily as he turns the dial onto the power box onto its lowest setting. 

“Ready, David?” he asks, and David’s answering grin is so wide it actually makes Patrick’s breath catch in his throat.

“So green, honey,” David murmurs. He lets his legs fall apart a little and his hands fall to his sides, a move so practised it should make Patrick jealous but he can’t find any room for the emotion under the overwhelming rush of love that goes barreling through him because yeah, maybe David’s had a lot of wild sex in his life but as he’s told Patrick over and over, no one has really taken care of him before; no one has dedicated as much time and attention to giving David exactly what he needs. And maybe the part of Patrick that gets off on that is primal and a little bit ugly, but it works for them.

“Keep your hands where they are, David.” He sits back on his heels before lowering the wand to David’s thigh with his thumb on the switch. There’s a loud crack and a visible spark as it connects, and Patrick swears and drops it on the bed.

“David?”

David laughs. “That was dramatic,” he says through a grin. “I barely felt it. I think the noise is just for effect.” When Patrick frowns at him, unsure, he adds: “Seriously. Try it on yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Patrick hesitates for a moment, but he trusts David. He picks the wand up off the bed and brings it down to his own thigh carefully. There’s another cracking sound, and the spark, but what he actually feels is a light zap at best. He feels his skin tingle underneath the wand, all sensation somehow simultaneously rushing towards the contact point and away from it, and it’s… nice.

He understands why David likes this. There’s something focused and calming about it, something that soothes an itch he didn’t really realise was there until it went away. 

He clears his throat and turns his attention back to David, who’s watching him with a small smile as though he can guess at some of what is going through Patrick’s head. Before he can say anything Patrick brings the wand to David's other leg, to the soft skin just behind his knee, then to another spot and another until he’s no longer surprised by the noise the wand makes.

David’s eyelids flutter shut, and he hums. “Could you turn it up a bit?”

Patrick reaches for the controller and cranks the dial before landing the wand on David’s shin, and he fists his hands in the sheets with a groan. The next contact point is high up on the front of his thigh, close to his hipbone, and David arches up into it before sinking back into the mattress with a deep sigh. He’s fully hard now, cock curving up deliciously towards his stomach, and Patrick has to fight with himself a little to stay where he is and not just lean forward and take David in his mouth. He drags the wand slowly down towards David’s knee and David whimpers, his panting even louder than the sound emanating from the wand. Patrick keeps his movements unpredictable, switching between jabs and drags, changing legs at random, moving up and down the length of David’s legs. When he finally pulls the wand away David groans, low in his throat, but he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Colour?” Patrick asks him, even though he thinks he knows the answer, and sure enough David opens his eyes just so he can roll them in Patrick’s direction.

“Green, obviously,” he says, and just for that sass Patrick slips a hand under David’s calf, lifting his leg off the bed before tapping the wand as gently as he can on the ball of David’s foot and making him yelp.

“Tickles,” he mutters, but he doesn’t pull his foot away and he doesn’t say yellow so Patrick does it again, in the arch of his foot this time, and David sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth. Patrick lowers his leg again before running the wand up his calf, where Patrick’s hand was just a moment ago, and then brings it to the upper thigh of his other leg just below David’s balls.

“Oh, fuck,” David gasps, and when Patrick looks up at the sound he realises David is reaching for his cock. He clears his throat and the hand flies back to the sheets as if it never left, only the small smirk on David’s face giving him away.

“Behave,” Patrick tells him firmly before wrapping a hand around his own cock and squeezing tight. The sight of David like this, writhing in the sheets and so desperate he’ll risk not doing what he’s told, is enough to undo him if he lets it; to distract himself, he turns the machine up another notch. He brings the wand lightly to the front of David’s thigh but even that brief touch has David moaning outrageously loudly, fingers scrabbling in the sheets as though he’s fighting to hang on.

“Colour?” Patrick says, unable to keep the laugh out of his voice as he keeps the wand moving, and David scowls.

“Fuck you, green,” he gasps. “Please, I need— I can’t— I need to—”

“Was there a question in there?” Patrick asks lightly, letting the wand trail down the outer side of David’s leg towards his knee.

David chokes out something between a sob and a curse Patrick can’t quite make out before he visibly swallows. “Patrick,” he forces out between gritted teeth, “please can I come?”

Part of Patrick — the part that is so close to coming his balls are starting to ache — wants to just wrap his hand around David and get him off. But he knows that’s not what David needs. “Never said you couldn’t,” he says with a wide grin as he moves the wand again.

David picks his hands up, and Patrick is just about to say something when he  _ slams _ them back into the bed. “Can I  _ touch myself,” _ he growls, and Patrick hums.

“I don’t know, David,” he says with a grin as he brings the wand to the crease between David’s thigh and hip and making him gasp. “That wasn’t very polite.”

“Please,” David croaks immediately. “Patrick, please let me touch myself, fuck, I need it so bad, please—” 

“Nope,” Patrick says lightly, and David’s loud wail of frustration masks the sound of him tossing the wand towards the end of the bed and leaning forward. He presses David’s body down into the mattress with his own, their cocks sliding together roughly as David gasps into his mouth, their tongues colliding together. It’s uncoordinated and there’s almost too much friction but Patrick feels desperate for it and he can tell David is even closer to the edge than he is. 

David comes first with a loud groan, throwing his head back so that Patrick’s mouth lands messily on his jaw, and Patrick nips lightly at the sensitive, stubbled skin there as he follows David over the edge before slumping down on top of him. He lays there for a minute, face buried in David’s shoulder as he gets his breath back, before he pulls back and grins at the dazed, blissed-out look on David’s face. When David finally cracks his eyes open, his smile gets even wider as he looks up at Patrick until Patrick has to look away, climbing awkwardly off the bed and hauling David up with him. 

He’s halfway to the door, intending to get them both under the shower as soon as possible, when he realises David isn’t right behind him like he normally is. When he turns David is standing by the foot of the bed, turning the wand over and over in his hand with a smirk on his face.

“My turn with this next time, I think,” he says, his eyes searching Patrick’s carefully.

Patrick raises an eyebrow at him. “Maybe if you’re a good boy,” he replies, and doesn’t miss the full-body shudder David still tries to hide sometimes even though Patrick has known what the words _good boy_ do to him since literally the night they met. He's not prepared, though, for David's answering grin to turn positively feral and the way it makes Patrick's pulse race.

It's something else to tuck away for later. Right now, they both desperately need to shower.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
